Trial and Error

Rosie

He looked at me with shock written all over his eyes. His hand cupped my cheeks and he winced as he tried to move up.

"Please tell me you're not her," he whispered. I felt tears pool in my eyes and I shook my head.

"I can't do that," I mumbled, "it's me. Rosie."

He let out a sound that sounded like something between a groan and a whimper and pulled me to him. I placed my head gently on his shoulder and let him hug me.

"It's been so long," he whispered, pulling back, "you shouldn't be here. You need to leave."

"And let you bleed to death? No way."

"Rosie, I'm not asking, I'm telling you to go."

I shook my head, "the last time you made your own decisions like this I lost you for a long time. Okay, no. You're going to a hospital."

He shook his head, "no I'm okay."

As if to prove my point, he groaned and let out a yelp as he clutched his stomach. I rose an eyebrow.

"You're bleeding out as we speak," I mumbled, "if you can't go to a hospital then at least let me take you to my place. We can figure something out there. Please."

I refused to tear my eyes away from his. He looked at me, pleading with me silently for me to let him be but I stayed stubborn. I had found him after so long, with a god damn stab wound in his waist, and he wanted me to leave.

"Listen," I said, glancing down at his wound, "I don't know how deep this is, and I don't know how much blood you're losing, but before we lose each other a second time, before we even got to know each other again, please just come to my house. You don't have to explain your situation, I won't ask any questions. Just please."

He looked defeated as he closed his eyes and slowly nodded. I nodded hastily and picked up my phone, dialling the number for an Uber.

~

I helped Harry into my apartment and had him lay down on the couch. I had given Harry my jacket to cover his wound with so the Uber driver didn't see much, and instead thought Harry had a bad stomach ache. Luckily he didn't pry.

I dashed into my bathroom and fished out the first aid kit from under neath the sink. I ran out to the living room where he lay and knelt down in front of him.

"I uh..." I breathed, "I don't know-"

"It's just a stab wound," he grunted, "so you're going to have to disinfect the wound, stitch it up again. But first, keep me elevated. Stick a pillow under my back to lessen the blood flow, and then pass me a towel or something so I can press down on it."

I furrowed my eyebrows at his knowledge for these things but nonetheless followed his orders. I was worried; what had he been up to these past few years to make him this way? I'd have to ask him later.

"Okay," he said, after I did as he said and he pressed the towel to his wound. He winced and pointed weakly to the first aid kit.

"In there, Rosie," he muttered, "you need to be quick and careful. I'm already losing a lot of blood. Grab the scissors and cut my shirt open, it's too bloody so it'll be hard to take off."

I nodded, sweat and tears building in my eyes and face. I shakily grabbed the scissors and carefully took Harry's shirt in my hand and skipped the fabric, I made sure to keep the shirt lifted so I didn't touch his skin and finally cut it apart. He lifted the towel off of his body as I cut around the area and returned it immediately to keep the pressure on the wound. I opened his shirt and exposed his abdomen.

I tried to ignore the tattoos across his body because I had other things to worry about.

"Okay, now, we need to clean it. Put on the gloves."

I reached into the kit and put them on.

"How is your breathing?" I asked. He smiled weakly.

"Good, Rosie." He slowly lifted the towel, "the bleeding has stopped."

"Now?" I asked. His green eyes, drowsy, looked at me and he smiled.

"Can you dress the wound for me? Wash it and then pass me the needle and thread, I can stitch it and you can put the disinfectant on it."

I furrowed my eyebrows and nodded.

Within about thirty minutes we had managed to treat his wound. Harry was now seated upright on my couch, a glass of milk in his hand (because I didn't have anything else and he didn't want water). I played with my fingers as thoughts flew all around my mind.

I had so many questions to ask him. So many things I wanted to hear him say, but I didn't know if I still had the right to ask; Considering we had been apart for a while.

I took in a deep breath.

"I'd ask if you've been okay these past years, but uh..." I pointed to his bandage. He snorted and finished his glass before he set it on the table beside him. He adjusted himself and looked at me.

"It's good to see you," he smiled, "after all these years."

I nodded and smiled.

"What?" He asked.

"I just find it funny," I said, "we're being all awkward and distant when ten minutes ago I was helping you stitch yourself up."

"Distance is good," he said, causing me to look at him, "it'll keep you safe."

I furrowed my eyebrows, "for both of our benefits, it'd be best if we don't reconnect, Rosie. After tonight, I'll go my way and you'll go yours. Our lives are too different now for us to even think of being friends still."

I opened my mouth to speak but he stopped me.

"You said you wouldn't ask questions. I just need you to know; this isn't safe. Me being here. So for your own safety, it's best if we just remain like this."

I looked at him for further clarification, feeling my hopes and heart sink, as the devastation already set in at the idea of never being allowed to be close to him again.

"Strangers."

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This story is going to be hella different from my other ones. But I'm excited. So please look forward to each chapter!!

Thank you!!